Sometime Around Midnight
by frayedattheends
Summary: Brittany has finally graduated, and now she wants to go get her girl back. Oneshot, after canon.


**A**/**N**: This_ piece is dedicated to RedDevilOutTheWindow. I had said my 200th follower for one of my other stories could prompt me for a oneshot and this is what came of what they gave me. I hope you like it!_

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You pull the heavy, wooden door open and stumble into the darkened bar. It's exactly the kind of bar you've always imagined to exist in New York City, and it's eerily similar to the place you always saw her in in her future.

The door closes behind you as you scan the place over. After a visit to the loft and a quick chat with Kurt, you find out that this is where she spends most evenings to burn off steam. The ambiance is warm and settled; like this place has been here for centuries, like it will be for centuries more. With no windows (the bar is in the basement) you almost feel like you're in the lower cabin of a boat. Everything is rustic and cozy that way. There's a small stage in the corner, just a raised triangle of wooden planks and a sole spotlight shining down upon it. A man sits on a stool and plays his guitar as he sings, and you could swear you're in a movie with how cliché it is. The benches of the booths are dark wood which matches the bar-top. The stools at the bar are simple and wooden without backs to them. You wonder how long someone could sit comfortably in any of these seats, but it's really an irrelevant thought because it has taken you ten seconds to scan the room and find her. You didn't even have to look anywhere else really, you could have zeroed in on her in an instant, just like always.

She's in a booth in the corner opposite the stage and she's with two other women and a man. They're all laughing. _She's_ laughing. She's on the outside of the round booth so all you see is her profile, but it's enough to know that you've never seen her more beautiful or more at peace.

_God_, she looks so happy and so mature. The city shines through her exactly how you imagined it would. In the simplest of terms; she belongs here.

She's laughing again, her head tilting back in that way that it does when she's truly laughing from her heart. When she's honestly happy. Her dark hair is longer than ever before and spills down her back in thick waves. You close your eyes for a moment at the memory of your fingers in that hair and the way it feels to your touch, the way it smells. You force your eyes open again and realize you're still standing at the front door. No one is staring at you though, because here no one seems to care.

You bite your lip and step aside into the shadows, and you continue to watch her. Your plan had been to find her, see her, and tell her you want to stay, but now that you've seen her you're frozen in your spot. She's happy. How long have you wanted her to be this happy and this free? For everyone around her to see her like you see her? You know that there are still pieces of her that no one else will see but you, but even now you can see she's letting herself show more than she ever would back home. You hear Kurt's voice in your head, _'She's finally okay. Just be sure of what you're doing, Britt. Be sure that you want to stay.' _

You turn and walk right back out the door, because you don't know what to say to her. You don't know how to tell her everything you want to tell her, and you're not sure she'll look far enough into your eyes so that you don't _have_ to say it. And maybe Kurt is right and you should just let her be okay. This is what you wanted for her, isn't it?

You're back out on the sidewalk, and your arms are tight around yourself as you walk away from the bar. As you walk away from her. How painful it always is to walk away from her. Like a cord stretching between you both and slowly severing, each stretched line snapping loudly the further you get from her.

Every.

Step.

Hurts.

More.

_'Be sure that you want to stay.'_

Of course you want to fucking stay. You have wanted to stay with her from day one. You have wanted to stay with her ever since the first time her lips met yours, ever since her shaky fingers touched your skin where she never had before, and since that first time you heard the three words whispered in your ear after making love to her. Every time you would lay in her arms you knew you wanted to stay there forever. Every time she looked at you, hugged you, sang to you; you knew. But you pushed her away. You had to, and you don't regret it. But you did it and it's not something you can undo. Breaking her heart is not something that you can pretend away.

You're good at pretending. Pretending you're some stupid blonde who doesn't know any better, and pretending like you don't know how the world works. You know. You know that neither of you were ready for what lay beyond Lima back then. Back when you were making all of your plans together. When you both dreamt of graduating together, moving away together; _being_ together. Forever. You knew deep down that it would never be that simple. You knew there was a world out there that you weren't prepared for. A world you couldn't protect her from, nor her you. You knew that if you both didn't take some time to learn how to live in the world separately you'd never make it together. You also knew that as long as you both graduated together she would never go anywhere without you.

It wasn't hard really. You put as little effort as you had to into your senior year, and you didn't let her see. You purposely choked on your SATs and your end of term exams, and when Figgins told you the news you weren't the least bit surprised. Maybe it was a bad idea for your future to stay another year, but a part of you wanted to. A part of you wanted to show yourself and everyone that you could make it without her. And maybe a part of you was too scared to try going anywhere else on your own yet, or at all. But mostly...mostly you knew that she needed to go off on her own for awhile. You helped her get that scholarship, and you pushed her to leave Lima. Because she had to. You knew that she had to. Her love for you would hold her back, and you would never forgive yourself for that. And one day maybe she wouldn't forgive you for it either. You wouldn't let that happen.

There has always been something so fragile about this girl you love so much, and you have done your best to take care of her even when she doesn't realize it. Especially when she doesn't realize it. And sometimes that means pushing, sometimes that means actions you're not proud of. Sometimes it means shattering your own heart as you tear apart hers.

Leaving. Leaving Lima had been easy. Leaving Sam had been easy. Yeah, you felt bad about it, but you saw in his eyes that he was expecting it. You saw every day that he was waiting for you to leave him behind, and what's more is you saw how desperate he was to love you. To love _someone_. And to have someone that loved him. You don't believe for a second that he had wanted you for as long as he'd said. You were there, and he was there, and both of your hearts were aching. Somewhere that line of friendship and love blurred for him, and you went with it. You didn't want to be completely alone, and he did make you happy. He made you laugh. He may not have made you as happy as she could, or laugh the way she can make you laugh, but it was _something_. Something to get you through how much it hurt to be without her. You had everything planned. How you would get through this senior year the right way, how you would graduate and go after your woman, and how everything would finally be right again. She would be ready for you, and you for her. You would both be ready for the world together or apart.

But you hadn't planned on it feeling like this. You hadn't planned on the ache that came every time you saw her or heard her name. You hadn't planned on the idea that in telling her to move on she really would move on and forget you, and now you're scared that she has. You're scared that you pushed her too hard and now she's gone. You're scared that you're not meant to get her back and you read fate wrong.

Sooner than you realize, you find yourself in front of the hostel you're staying at. You had only expected to be there for a night, maybe two, before being with her, but now you realize maybe your stay will be longer. You came out here without a job and without a home, and you wonder for the first time if your actions were completely stupid. You put everything on going back to her, on being taken back, and you're not even sure that will happen. Which is a strange feeling for someone who has always been so sure of the future working itself out so that you two are together again.

The wind is colder on your face than it should be. Your skin feels chapped. You bring your hand up to your cheeks and feel the dampness there, and you realize you're crying. You feel the heavier sobs crawling up your throat, and you have to get inside and under your covers before they erupt.

Six days. Six days go by before you feel stronger again to go back to that bar. All you've done is think of her. Think of how she looked, think of what you might say to her, and think of holding her again. Seeing her. Just seeing her and looking into her eyes. It's been seven months since you've seen her in anything but passing, because you didn't know how else to stay strong with your choice. You didn't know how to keep pretending and not let her see the truth in your eyes. She couldn't stay with you there. She never could. You always knew that, but it hurt. It never stopped hurting from the moment she left for Kentucky, and it still aches away at your heart. You've spent a year not being hers, and it's been the hardest thing you've ever had to learn how to do.

It has been six days and you know that this time you can do it. This time you can tell her you want to stay with her. You can tell her you belong together, and nothing else will keep you apart.

You step into the bar again hoping that she'll be there, and instantly your eyes find her. She's in the same booth with one of the same women, and again she's laughing. She has a beer in her hand that you know she got with her fake ID, and something about that makes you smile. She could be drinking wine or something fancy, but she's just drinking from a bottle of beer. It makes her all the more beautiful, because she's being natural; being herself.

You slip over to the bar and pull out your own fake ID, because you know you need a little bit more courage. You order an Appletini because they always looked like fun, and you like the color green. As you lean to the bar and wait for your drink you look her way again. You watch her carefully, and it only takes seconds for her to stiffen and sit up straighter. Her head turns and right away her gaze finds yours. It locks in and you involuntarily gulp at the feel of those eyes on you again. There's something about that gaze that always makes you start breaking down piece by piece. It shatters you. It brings you undone.

She's staring, and you're watching a dozen different emotions and thoughts flash over her face. They're subtle. Someone else might not notice them, but you do. You always do, and you know each one. Confusion. Disbelief. _Is this a dream_? _No, this is real_. Fear. Nervousness. Anger.

It's the last one that hurts you and you have to look away. Luckily your drink is ready and you take it to your lips with a long gulp. It's fruity and a little sour on your tongue, and somehow it seems fitting for the moment. You swallow it down and quickly take another. You take a breath and turn again to find her. She's still staring. Now her face is blank and you know she's just watching you. Studying. Remembering. She nods to her companion like she's listening, but you know she's not. You know the only thing she can hear, just like you right now, is the hard beating of your hearts. Pounding. You don't move your eyes from hers as she silently asks you what you're doing here, why? _Why are you here, Britt_? And you don't know how to answer her, so instead you reflect back your love for her. For your best friend. That way that you know you always looked at her in high school, even before she admitted what you two were to each other. Before you were allowed to love her as deeply as you do.

Her head shakes once, twice, swiftly at that gaze, and she looks away. She takes a long pull of her beer, head tilted back, until it's gone. She sets the bottle down and says something to her..friend? Date? You're not sure. Right now it doesn't matter, because she's on her feet and she's coming your way.

You throw back the last of your drink. You need it. You set the glass down, but keep your fingers around the lower part of it's stem. Something to touch, somewhere to direct your own nerves. Because she's getting closer, and with each step closer that she gets (her hips swaying as perfectly as they always do), the warmer the room around you becomes. As she gets closer you feel that connection that you have always shared get stronger and stronger.

And she's there. Here. Standing in front of you. Watching you. Waiting for you to say something. Her arms cross over her chest in the way that she does to close herself off, and something inside of you crumbles. You want to open your mouth and say something, say why you're here, but you can't. You can't do anything but stare at her. The most beautiful person you have ever known, from the inside out. Your eyes fall to her lips and you're instantly reminded of the last time you kissed those lips. So quick, so fleeting, but it had to be or else you never would have let her go. And her jaw...how many times had your lips brushed that jaw? Or her neck. That spot behind her ear, and the curve where it meets her shoulder; places that always made her shudder in your arms. The hollow of her throat that jumps whenever she's trying not to cry. How you used to love sliding your tongue against it and making her moan. Her arms. Her incredible, soft arms. So many nights that you've wished those arms could be around you again, nights that you told yourself they one day would be. Your gaze falls on her breasts and the cleavage she's showing with her dress, and you feel your breath deepen. You have to will air up through your lungs and make your gaze move on. Her hips, her stomach, the abs you know lay beneath that fabric. And your gaze continues down, slowly, until you reach her feet. Every inch of her sets off another memory, and half of them are steamier than you should probably let them get right now. You're burning up. You're burning up and it hurts to breathe as you quickly let your eyes scan back up her body to find hers. She's watching you still. You can tell she saw every thought that crossed through your mind, and you can also tell she remembered those times too. Her chest is rising and falling a bit quicker than it had been, and you see a hint of sweat along her hairline. You share all of those memories together for just a moment, and then she closes her eyes, effectively cutting you off. Another sever to your connection.

You look down at the glass under your fingertips and wait. One, two, three...

"Britt. What are you doing here?" Her voice is soft, loud enough to be heard, but soft. There's pain in there and it hurts because you know you caused it. You chew down hard on your lip and your eyes narrow in thought. Somewhere you have words. Somehow you know you can speak...

You raise your eyes to hers. "I...needed to see you."

Her eyes fall again, not letting you back in, and she nods. "Yeah. Kurt said he saw you last week. Asked me if you'd found me."

"...oh." Your lips pause in an O.

"I figured...I don't know. I guess I figured you were gone." Her voice is flat, almost annoyed. You hate hearing that tone on her lips when it's directed at you.

"I'm sorry, I..." Fiddling with the stem of the glass. Distraction. You take a deep breath and let go of the glass. "I got scared." You feel your voice getting stronger and you let your chin raise slightly.

"Where's Sam?" The question is cold, and you feel it cut into your heart like an icicle.

"I broke up with him," you murmur, and you're not even sure she's heard you, but you don't want to say it again. You're not proud of yourself in any sense of the word for some of the things you've done this last year.

She snorts lightly. "So much for making the right choice," she says bitterly.

"That's not fair, Santana."

"Yeah, and I don't want to do this. It was nice seeing you...or whatever."

You turn to her before she can walk away. "Is that your date?"

She looks over her shoulder, and back at you, and you swear for an instant you see worry on her brow. Shame. It fades and her eyes fall to her feet as she shrugs. "Not really your business anymore, is it?"

You don't know where this anger and coldness is coming from, because there had always been small, polite smiles and waves over the last many months. Like at the wedding, like... "Was you sleeping with Quinn none of my business?" You're not sure where you find the strength to ask that, but it's been tumbling around in your mind long enough as it is. You gaze up and watch fear jump into her eyes before she, once again, pushes it away.

"No, it's not."

"She's my best friend, too."

"And it had nothing to do with you."

It's your turn to look down at your feet, because you don't know where this is going and you don't want to fight. You're about to say something when another voice joins your private world with her.

"Santana, we're gonna be late if we don't head out."

You look up and see the woman from the booth. She's leaning in to Santana in an intimate way, and a hot flame of jealousy shoots through you. You watch the exchange carefully and notice how Santana never takes her eyes from you as she speaks to the other woman.

"Yeah...I'm coming. Give me a minute." The woman leaves them and goes to the door, and Santana is still watching you. It's quiet for a moment and she speaks again. "I'll...I'll see you around, Britt." You hear the crack of sadness and regret in those simple words, but she walks away before you can say anything back.

You look over you shoulder and watch her join the other woman, watch as she gazes back at you once more, before they get swallowed up through the other side of the door.

And she's gone.

Your eyes close just as hard as the door just did and you feel the tremble start in your chin. Not now. You don't want to do this now. Everything is starting to hurt. You have to get out of here. You quickly give the bartender some cash, probably more than needed, and you leave. Though the air outside is still a little warm, you're shivering all over. You hug yourself tightly and look around, trying to orient yourself with which way you're supposed to go. It takes you a moment, but you turn left and start down the sidewalk.

This isn't how it was supposed to go. It never went like this in your mind when you thought about it. When you planned it. You were supposed to come to her, confess your love, tell her you never stopped loving her and you never will, and she was supposed to take you back. You _knew_. Throughout all of this, the entire damned painful journey, you knew that you two would end up back in each other's arms. That's how it was supposed to go. You had believed in it so hard that you hadn't paused to think it may go any other way. To think that maybe, just maybe, she might be over you. Maybe you _were_ just that girl. That girl that helped her find herself, but got left in the past. Her high school sweetheart, and nothing more.

You can feel the breeze batting your light cotton dress against your knees, and you start to wish you had worn pants and sneakers, because you want to run. You want to run fast and hard and never look back, because you were stupid and dumb and-

"Brittany."

You stop. Her voice pounds through your head, and you close your eyes because obviously you imagined it. You must have. You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for disappointment as you turn around. But she's there. She's standing there, several feet away, and she's watching you. Her hands are clenching together in front of herself, and you look at her face. You might ask if the city lights are playing tricks on your eyes, but you know her well enough to know that those really are tears on her cheeks. Her lips are pressing together tightly, and your heart pounds as you wait for whatever she has to say.

"_Why_ are you here?" The question is desperate, and you know you can't avoid it.

You decide to go for it, to answer her as honestly as you always have. "To get my girl back."

Her face crumbles slightly and her head shakes. She won't look you in the eye, and people keep walking between you and around you. You know you're in the way, but you can't move. You don't think she can either. "Stop doing this," she pleads. "You...you chose _Sam_. You made me leave. Now you want to come back and...and.."

The sound of her voice hurts, but you know it's well deserved. "You did the same thing," you reply evenly. "You dumped me and only came back when you heard-"

"I know what you did," she says, her tone going sharp again. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? You...you made me go. Your hurt me so I'd go. I hate when you do that. When you...manipulate me instead of just-just _talking_ to me. It's not fair."

You know. You know it's not fair and you know the word she used is the right one. It's what you did. It's what you do. "Would you have left? If I told you I still loved you, would you have left?" She meets your eyes again, but she doesn't answer your question. You both know she wouldn't have. You only do what you have to do because you know her, because you know what will and won't work. Just like she does to you.

"We just...keep taking turns breaking each other's hearts," she says slowly. "It's not...we can't..."

You nod slowly. "Okay." No, it's not okay. It'll never be okay for you two to not, for a can't, but you won't force it. You won't force her. Not anymore. She's happy, and that's all you've ever wanted for her. She's exactly where you've wanted to see her. It's that instant that you realize you have to let her go, and this time it has to be for real. Let her go, let being an _us_ with her go.

She nods in return, and turns to go without saying goodbye. You're kind of glad because you don't think you could handle a good bye. You turn as well and start to walk again. You get three steps in before you hear her voice behind you.

"Are we even?"

You spin around. "What?" Her question had trembled off of her lips more pained than any of the others.

"I broke your heart and you broke mine. Are we even?"

"It was never about-" You want her to see that. You need her to know that you weren't trying to get even with her for hurting you. How could she ever think that-

"I know. I know it wasn't." She's taking a couple of steps closer to you, and you're confused. You're trying to read what she actually means by her words through her eyes, but you can't decipher it for what seems like the first time ever. You're trying so hard that you don't realize how close she is until she stops right in front of you. Until her thumb is on your cheek, brushing your tears away. "But we're even, right? So now...can we be done breaking each other's hearts?"

"What-" You start to ask, but then you see it. You see the love in her eyes, and you see that undeniable fact. The fact that neither one of you can ever let go, because there _is_ no letting go. There is no over or done, and there never can be. Just like you've always believed since the moment you met her. You remember that now as you look into her eyes, and you start to feel warm all over. Good warmth. Happiness warmth. Because if she's saying what you think she's saying...

"You think I could ever get over you?" She asks softly, cupping your cheek. "You think I even have a choice in _trying_?"

Your lip pulls in between your teeth and you can feel the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "I thought...maybe..."

"It fucking hurt like hell, but...what you did...what you did for me...how you...no one's.." She's stumbling over her words, but it's okay because you see it all in her eyes. You see how grateful she is, you see that she understands, and most importantly you see just how much she loves you.

It's your turn to reach out and brush away her tears, and you do so with both hands. You hold her face and look down on her, and now you know that your smile is going to burst your face. "I told you," you say. "That we'd have a happily ever after. Just like in the fairy tales." Your hands shake because she's laughing softly, and god how you love that sound.

"What does that make me? The prince or the princess?"

You dry her cheeks again and you gaze at her, you show her every single thing you feel, every memory with her that you have, shining in your eyes. You hold her beautiful face in your hands, and you lean your forehead in against hers. Once upon a time she might have easily cast herself as the evil witch, but you know better. You've always known better. She's the lightest, purest, most _good_ thing you've ever had in your life.

"You're the magic," you whisper. "And you're mine." And then easily, like you've never forgotten the path, you let your lips find hers.

* * *

_Title and inspiration from the song _Sometime Around Midnight_ by _Airborne Toxic Event_. Give it a listen now that you've read._


End file.
